The silver-leaved birch retains in its old age a soft bark; there are some such men.

In Nature there is no dirt, everything is in the right condition; the swamp and the worm, as well as the grass and the bird,-all is there for itself.

I have been young and am now old, and have not yet known an untruthful man to come to a good end.

The world is the same everywhere.

Truly, one gets easier accustomed to a silken bed than to a sack of leaves.

What is all our knowledge worth? We do not even know what the weather will be tomorrow.

With hat in hand, one gets on in the world.